Our Apartment

It occured to me that the majority of you reading my blog have yet to see our home (hint, hint). I always love to see pictures of people's homes, especially when I cannot physically see them myself, so I thought I would post a few pictures for your perusal. Enjoy:-)

Campus Fears

Although I was not directly impacted by the Virginia Tech shootings, it has been interesting to observe the affect it has had on me in particular. In the past, when we have had tragedies in our country, I have grieved with those who grieve as well as I knew how, but because I was not directly affected, it seemed almost surreal, and I didn't really know how to feel or act.

Because I am a college student, though, this time it seems to have hit closer to home. When I think of the scenes that took place, my mind cannot help but envision them in my own classrooms, in my own campus buildings. I realize that something like that could happen on my own campus as well as Virginia Tech. I realized that there could be people on my own campus, in my own life, who are feeling just as desperate and lonely as Mr. Cho was...am I reaching out to them?

Anyone who knows me knows that I struggle with anxiety more than a little. So of course, these thoughts can lead to anxiety in my heart. Especially when I read the accounts of the survivors and envision the horror of those moments. I often wonder what I would have done, how I would have felt, had I been one of the victims?

In some of the accounts of what happened, students tell how Mr. Cho poked his head in many of the classrooms before the shooting began. They assumed he was looking for someone. In reality, he was most likely gauging the amount of people in each room so he could do the most damage. I wonder what it would have been like to see a person, assume they're looking for a classmate (like we've all had happen) and then have him return later to begin gunning everyone down? I have thought. I get a little nervous every time a door opens after class has begun.

So this morning, I was sitting in my 8 am Faith and Learning Class and about halfway through the class, the far door opened. That side of the classroom sits empty, so we keep the lights out. We all turned to look. A dark skinned man wearing a mask leaned around the corner and peered into the room, then disappeared. My heart about jumped out of my chest! The mask he was wearing resembled a cleaning mask, and I had seen him outside the bathrooms earlier, so I was fairly sure he was a janitor, but still! I was scared stiff! I spent the next few minutes praying and calming my heart, trying not to let my imagination run away with me.

All this has just got me to thinking...the fact that the shooting was on a college campus, and I am currently on a college campus (in downtown Chicago no less) has made the whole incident much more real to me, for better or for worse. But I have been able to pray more effectively for those who have suffered because of this. I pray that God will continue to give me a heart for those who are hurting. And I pray nobody's angry with anybody at our school!--and that I may never be one who would fuel such an anger.

Terror in the Night

Stephen and I often have a lot of fun telling people stories of his strange sleep habits, namely his narcolepsy and his sleep talking/walking/adventures. Some of the stories people laugh at--like the time he fell asleep while playing "Jailbreak" and woke up three hours later to people calling his name, crying, praying, believing (based on the trail of blood they found) that he had been dragged off by a wild beast. Others grow concerned about him--like the time he dressed himself and literally drove to work in his sleep at 3 am, only to be woken up by the guard knocking on his window and asking him what he was doing there. And still others are concerned for me, now sleeping beside him, as they hear stories of him rolling over on top of his best friend in the middle of the night, covering his mouth and saying "shhh!!!" then counting slowly to 3 while looking around fearfully, rolling back over and returning to silent sleep. His friend was terrified. They ask me if I'm ever concerned for my safety with such an unpredictable sleeping partner. I answer that I was slightly apprehensive at first, but as he hadn't done anything really scary yet, I basically forgot about it.

Until last night.

I had come down with a dreadful cold and laid around on the couch blowing my nose, trying to sleep, and watching movies and reading all day. However, sleep was not coming easily for me, so I asked Stephen to pick up some NyQuil on his way home from work. After 3 Walgreens and a CVS, he finally found a place that was open at 11 PM. I thanked him profusely (as well as for the little chocolates he brought me. I promised I wouldn't eat them 'til I was better though), took a dose, and went to bed. I woke up a couple of times, like normal, but went right back to sleep.

But at about 3 am, I was startled from a peaceful slumber by Stephen, towering above me in bed, arms outstretched, hands curled like claws, like a lion about to pounce upon his prey. His eyes and mouth were strangely closed, but he was letting out a screech-like noise--something like a mix between an evil chuckle and an angry scream. Terrified, I threw my hands up and screamed right back at him, quivering and quaking.

"STEPHEN! STEPHEN!!" I yelled when I found my voice, attempting to wake him from his sleep. Maybe if I woke him, he would realize he was asleep and not attack me! My muddled brain reasoned.

Stephen had quieted and rolled back over onto his side of the bed. "Huh?" he said, waking slightly.

"You scared me!" I cried, and he apologized and put his arms around me to comfort me...and within seconds his breathing had returned to a steady pace, and I knew he was deep in sleep again.

My sleep, however, was quite fitful for the rest of the night, constantly peeking at him out of the corner of my eye in fear that he would try something else in his sleep. He didn't, however, and we had a good laugh about it this morning. But now that something of this nature has happened, it will probably happen again, and I'm not sure I'm going to sleep well for awhile.

In Which the Bus is Not Handicap Equipped

So this week being Holy Week, we got Good Friday off of classes. As is becoming tradition, we hurriedly called the Grandparents in Indi and asked if they were around for us to come visit for a long weekend. They were just returned from Florida. Sweet. We hopped on-line and purchased our bus tickets (we don't own a car) to get on a bus at 6:00 Thursday night, to arrive in Indi at 10:15 PM local time. Uncle Chris was going to pick us up.

I got off work a bit early and my generous employer dropped Stephen and I off at Union Station where we were to catch our bus. Now, this particular bus line is so cheap, it doesn't even have it's own station, just a sign that says "Bus Stop" where it literally pulls over, loads you up, and leaves. Or at least, that's what's supposed to happen.

So we stood around waiting for about half an hour in the cold (like...25-30 degress I believe). The bus arrived at 6:00. We hurried into a line, and I saw a woman in a wheelchair and her caregiver talking to the bus driver.

"How are they going to get her on the bus?" I asked, eyeing the narrow bus door. Stephen shrugged.

The bus driver checked our reservation number, and we boarded the bus. We breathed a sigh of relief as we found two seats together. (I am always nervous whenever there are no assigned seats that I won't get to sit next to Stephen). Safe on the bus, I settled in and began chatting with Stephen about the day. It wasn't until about 10 minutes later that I realized the bus was full and we still hadn't left yet.

"Where's the bus driver?" I asked Stephen.

Stephen peered out the window. "He's taking a smoke break and talking on his walkie talkie."

"Oh, great!" I moaned. Last time we had a bus driver who smoked, she took a 10 minute smoke break at every stop and we arrived an hour late. She got on the intercom and told her passengers that she was sorry we were late but it "couldn't be helped." Yeah right.

Shortly thereafter, our very short, stout bus driver climbed aboard the bus and faced us. "ALRIGHT!" He yelled. "EVERYBODY OFF THE BUS NOW! THIS BUS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HANDICAP EQUIPPED AND IT ISN'T, SO WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO SWITCH BUSES."

We all looked at each other. Not handicap equipped?? Is that even legal? And where on earth were they going to get another bus? If you've seen these particular buses, they don't grow on trees. But we all filed off anyways, grabbed our luggage, and stood on the sidewalk. Our very disgruntled bus driver paced the sidewalk furiously, talking on his walkie talkie and lighting another cigarette.

We just happened to be standing next to two other Moody students and struck up a conversation with them. It was cold. After awhile, Stephen asked the bus driver how long it would be before there was another bus. The bus driver stopped in his tracks, now on his third cigarette, spread his arms wide and said "FOLKS, I DON'T KNOW WHEN THE OTHER BUS WILL BE GETTING HERE, I KNOW AS MUCH AS YOU DO!"

An hour (and five cigarettes) later, still standing on the sidewalk, the bus driver got a call from his walkie talkie and announced to the group that a bus was on its way. On its way? What had it been doing for the last hour? We were not comforted, as we didn't know from whence this bus was coming and it was rush hour.

Finally, an hour and a half after we boarded and unboarded the bus, another bus showed up. Again, we filed onto the bus, secured our seats and waited. And waited. And waited. The bus driver climbed into the driver's seat and started the bus. He inched it forward a bit...then climbed off the bus.

"Now what's happening?" I asked. We soon realized that they were trying to load the woman in her wheelchair. They loaded her on the lift, then unloaded her, moved the bus and tried again. Thirty minutes later, the woman, her caregiver, and her dog were finally on the bus. And we actually left the building.

We arrived in Indi shortly after midnight. But at least we made it:-)